


You Cannoli Be Mine

by iraellesmera



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, and idols cbx of course, bakers chansoo, lot of pastry name-dropping, sort of soulmate-y au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-01-26 17:29:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21377836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iraellesmera/pseuds/iraellesmera
Summary: CBX’s Baekhyun posts a picture of his breakfast muffin with the purest of intentions, but the bakers themselves feel a tumult of emotions: Kyungsoo mutinously watches crazy fans enter the bakery, but Chanyeol gleefully cries. He’s a Soondingie after all.
Relationships: Kim Jongdae | Chen/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 54
Kudos: 182





	1. Banana nut muffin

**Author's Note:**

> going to indulge my love for gbbo

Chanyeol holds his breath.

His hands tremble slightly, steadying when he catches himself. It’s an old habit of his, but with twelve years of experience now, Chanyeol rarely lets it affect his work.

He pipes neat blobs of vanilla buttercream on the mille-feuille, creating straight lines that don’t lose their definition when he places the second layer of pastry on top. Topping it all off with pretty marbling, Chanyeol leans back to admire his creation.

“Expected nothing less of you, Park,” he mutters, grinning.

Moving the mille-feuilles to the side, Chanyeol stretches before checking the rest of his to-do list. He winces at the cracks emanating from his spine.

It’s dawn, the sun just peeking through the horizon. He and his partner Kyungsoo take turns arriving at the bakery early in the morning, preparing for the day before business hours start. A couple of Chanyeol and Kyungsoo’s rotating circle of extra bakers also clock in usually, assisting whoever's turn it is to come in at four in the morning, while the rest come in later at six.

Chanyeol eyes the covered tops of the sourdough in the banneton baskets. He supposes they should have been in the oven by now, but he had told Kyungsoo’s main assistant to take it easy, telling her to come in later with the rest of the crew.

He relishes these quiet mornings alone, but Kyungsoo would kill him if he ruined the bread.

They met in Paris, Chanyeol suffering through a mid-college life crisis after a semester of engineering. He hightailed out of there, willing to transfer _anywhere. _Even with the death threats of his parents.

With a stroke of luck, he’d landed in France, finding himself in an apron and being hailed with rapid-fire French. Blinking, Chanyeol had wondered whether he had made another mistake when Kyungsoo flew into his life.

Literally, like an angel.

Chanyeol had crowed in delight, finding another Korean was a miracle, a sure sign that this was the right choice.

And to his surprise, Chanyeol fell in love with culinary school. Remembering memories of cooking with his mother during childhood, he realized that _this_ was right. Cooking allowed him to express himself more than engineering ever could, and he truly found joy spending time under the tutelage of his teachers with his classmates.

But nothing could have prepared him for the wonders of baking.

Chanyeol watched gluten materialize into majestic breads, beautiful piping on cakes, and layers and layers of dough bake into heavenly puff pastries. He promptly dragged in Kyungsoo too.

The two never looked back, covering themselves in flour daily. Kyungsoo had grumbled, complaining that Chanyeol gave him no choice but to pursue baking, but Chanyeol knew he loved it as well, the shy smiles blooming on his face whenever their breads came out.

That’s how they began their specialization. Kyungsoo found solace laboring over dough, kneading and twisting it into perfect baguettes and rolls. Chanyeol and his sweet tooth loved the delicacy of the desserts and pastries. His attention to detail also helped with the decorating aspects.

The freshly anointed Kyungsoo the Boulanger and Chanyeol the Pâtissier returned back to Korea after certification, bidding au bientôt to their friends. Opening up a business together in the heart of Seoul, Lumière Bakery quickly amassed a cult following in the streets. Drawing in crowds of young and old alike, Kyungsoo and Chanyeol continued to remain busy well into their eighth year since opening.

The stillness of the bakery is only disturbed by Chanyeol’s shuffling. The birds start to chirp outside, and he relaxes in the zen ambiance. His watch indicates that there is still a good two hours before Kyungsoo and others are due to arrive, so Chanyeol starts to remove the proofing breads to start baking.

Other baked goods go into the ovens as well, and soon the whole bakery is toasty warm. Chanyeol sighs into his coffee, drinking in the smells. The chaos of opening would begin soon, everyone working stealthily to prevent the horde of customers outside from pounding on the doors.

Seriously, if they open at eight, they open at _eight_!

Checking all the timers again, Chanyeol turns on some music. He brightens at the sight of his first playlist, a compilation of songs by his all-time favorite artist.

CBX’s three members have God-given talent, and Chanyeol’s slight obsession with them is a bit concerning. Not that there is anything wrong with being a thirty-year-old EGG, (who the fuck thought that that was a good name?), but considering the fact that the majority of EGGs are screaming, teenaged girls, Chanyeol thinks it’s better to keep it under wraps. But bold of him to assume that he won’t scream with them.

The speakers begin thumping to the opening beats of “Rhythm After Summer,” a fun electronic sequence that gets Chanyeol pumping.

Chen’s glorious voice emerges first in the song, and Chanyeol smiles widely.

Chen is his ultimate bias if he would say so lightly. He had agonized over choosing his favorite after discovering the group; all three deserved the hype and acknowledgment.

But something about Kim Jongdae’s voice sent shivers down his spine. Every time the dude opens his mouth, there are angels raining down providence.

Plus he is _very _easy on the eyes.

There is an uproar when the rest of the staff come into work.

“What’s going on?” Chanyeol asks nobody in particular.

A phone is thrust his way, screen alight to an Instagram post that has accumulated more than a million likes. But that’s not what Chanyeol boggles at.

The posted picture is a muffin, _their _muffin. Lumière Bakery’s very own banana nut muffin, priced at 2,950 won.

The account had tagged their account, a realization Chanyeol gets when he hears, “My fucking phone’s blowing up!” from Junmyeon, one of their employees and resident social media marketer.

“Hyung!” Jongin — the phone’s owner — yells exasperatedly. “Byun Baekhyun posted it!”

Chanyeol is slow to respond. _What?_

“That little shit!” Kyungsoo exclaims. “We’re going to get mobbed!”


	2. Florentine biscuits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bout to get weird

It is a mess. Lumière Bakery opens up to a mob indeed, customers flooding in to an extent worse than the holidays.

Everything sells out after the first crowd, a cacophony of EGGs with their screams of “BAEKHYUN!”

Kyungsoo glares mutinously behind the counter. They can’t just close ten minutes into opening time, depriving the rest of their regular customers who have been pushed away by the rabid fans.

This means tapping into their reserves, pulling out the trays of dough and mixes that have been prepared to bake in the next few days. It will put them extremely behind schedule for the rest of the week_—_especially with a catering coming up_—_and force everyone to work overtime to compensate.

Not that the exposure is bad. It is basically a free celebrity endorsement after all, not to mention that it. Is. _CBX!_

Kyungsoo lets Chanyeol fanboy quietly.

Jongin cheekily puts CBX’s discography on the speakers for the rest of the day.

The lingering effects of the Baekhyun Fiasco remain for months after. The banana nut muffin is always sold out, causing its inventory to be more than tripled. Lovingly dubbed the Baekhyun Muffin by fans, Junmyeon jumps at the opportunity to extract more marketing opportunities.

“My legacy will be that goddamn banana nut muffin,” Kyungsoo bemoans. Chanyeol laughs while dipping the Florentine biscuits in chocolate.

“My legacy,” he corrects, to which Kyungsoo seethes. “The muffins are under my jurisdiction, no? Wow, Baekhyun ate my recipe,” he says dreamily.

Kyungsoo aims a kick at him. Chanyeol yelps and covers a whole biscuit in chocolate.

“Hey!”

“Shut up.” He steals the ruined biscuit and flees the room.

Chanyeol abandons his other biscuits to run after him.

The employees turn to watch their bosses squabble. It’s a common sight; they resume working.

Chanyeol catches Kyungsoo in a headlock, crumbs and melted chocolate covering his lips.

“I’M GOING TO TORCH YOUR BUNS!”

The threats reverberate out to the front, where customers cease their chatting to look up alarmedly.

Jongin—manning the counter—winces.

Chanyeol is working a late night at Lumière when the fateful snap occurs. One moment he’s crumb-coating a cake, then he’s on the floor, clutching his head as _something_ snaps into place.

_Ow ow. Holy shit, the cake!_

He unknowingly transmits across what is to be the fledging bond. A response is immediate, although it was probably unwilling on their end too.

_Cake? What cake?_

Chanyeol whirls around in surprise. “What the fuck?”

He hears the other voice slur again._ I need to go to bed. Fuckers poisoned me!_

_Who poisoned who?_

_Oh wowie, my subconscious is talking to me. Yes, you dummy, the one who took those drinks from Minse— NO HIS NAME IS FUCKING ASSHOLE._

_I am not your subconscious. _Chanyeol immediately thinks. _My name is Chanyeol._

_Chanyeol? Channn-nyyeol? _Even as their voice echoes in his head, Chanyeol has difficulty piecing together more details than that. He is sure they belong to a man….but maybe they were just his?

_‘Scuse me? _comes down his way indignantly. _I am a man, thank you very much!_

Chanyeol digs his fingers into his hair. _Piss off!_

_You piss off!_

In retrospect, perhaps he shouldn’t have told the boogeyman in his head his name.

_What, you think I’d remember? _There is a sarcastic laugh down the line that sends shivers down his spine. _Chanyeol? How memorable._

_So you did remember. _Chanyeol points out. _Better be careful bud. Never know what the subconscious might reveal._

Boogeyman snorts, but Chanyeol feels him immediately clamp down. Randomly, the dude starts to mutter words.

_What are you doing?_

_Trying to block you out so that I won’t reveal my name. LA LA LA CAN I BE YOUR BOYFRIEND, CAN I?_

_No. _Chanyeol shots back amusedly. _Is that an invitation?_

_What? No, of course not……._

A momentary pause.

_They’re just song lyrics_. Boogeyman says embarrassedly. _I’m not…asking you to be anything?_

“Hmph,” Chanyeol says aloud. But something keeps prodding him.

_“Blooming Days”? _He sends down the line excitedly._ Were you singing CBX?_

There’s a nervous chuckle. _Who?_

“Oh, c’mon, cut the bullshit,” Chanyeol complains. He is glad he’s alone right now, probably looking crazy as he talks to the air. _You were singing CBX! Nation’s pick!_

He figures he will never meet the Boogeyman in person, so he lets his chic facade fall.

_Stop denying it, I know you know them!_

There is radio silence from the other side, but Chanyeol is unperturbed.

_What did you think about their new album? Gosh I know “Blooming Days” is amazing, but have you heard their b-sides? I might just say that “Lazy” is my all time favorite. Oh shit no, don’t get me started on their Japanese releases. If you want a good cry, I definitely recommend “Diamond Crystal.” Oh and—_

Boogeyman interrupts him. However that is possible.

_Slow down, tiger_ he says in a low drawl. Chanyeol finds it easier to focus on his voice now, able to pick out the quality and tone. And he is definitely not imagining it.

_So Chanyeol, _he continues smoothly, and Chanyeol winces. Boogeyman really didn't forget his name. The same couldn’t be said for him. _That’s a Korean name?_

_Yeah well, I’m talking to you aren’t I?_

Boogeyman muses. _Who knows, maybe this is a pseudo language that our subconscious created. _

Chanyeol doesn't like where this conversation is heading. _What do you mean, pseudo? Are you not Korean?_

Boogeyman ignores his question. _We might speak completely different languages in real life, but mentally, we can be attuned together. This is why we can understand each other, because there are no language barriers in the thoughts we convey._

Chanyeol rolls his eyes._ Yeah okay, that’s a nice philosophical epiphany and all, but are you Korean?_

Boogeyman gets defensive. _Why’s that important?_

_Well, you know my name and my country of residence. _Chanyeol tells him impatiently as the other snorts again. _I don’t know, but that’s a little concerning don’t you think? We’re strangers!_

_We live in each other’s heads _he says primly. _I don’t think there is any hurry._


	3. scones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> filler chapter, désolée. mais we getting more deets

It’s hard to get used to having another person live in his head. Boogeyman is unhelpful as fuck, throwing random quips down the line whenever Chanyeol least expects it.

He has a nasty penchant of interrupting Chanyeol exactly when he needs to concentrate. He messes up his piping, adds a cup instead of a teaspoon of salt, and explodes eggs full of shells into bowls.

And then Boogeyman makes the _weirdest _sounds. He screeches, yodels, and blows raspberries? One day, he suddenly sings a trill that travels higher and higher to the female range, a sound so bizarre that Chanyeol knocks over a tray of scones.

_You sing like a dying moose_, he snarls down their bond. Boogeyman indignantly screams higher.

Kyungsoo pulls him aside after that. He doesn’t say anything, but his gaze is piercing nonetheless.

“When have you last been to the doctor?” he asks abruptly, clearly worried.

Chanyeol shifts uncomfortably. He absolutely lacks the ability to lie to his best friend.

But what can he tell him? That he has voices in his head?

Kyungsoo, chalking up his silence to shame, seems to soften.

“You know we can re-make the whole batch right? It’s not a big deal,” he reassures him. “But Chanyeol, tell me what’s wrong. You’ve never—”

Made so many mistakes? Ruined countless trays of profit? Just been a pain in the ass for everybody working?

“—looked this exhausted.”

Ah okay, maybe he can use this to his advantage.

“I’m just feeling a little bit stressed,” he says hesitantly, acting like he doesn’t want to admit it. “The catering is a little expansive this time, and I’ve been going to bed late.”

Kyungsoo looks at him quizzically, and Chanyeol’s heart sinks. Has he shot himself in the foot by mentioning the catering? It wasn’t the worst they ever had to do, and he had never voiced his complaints before.

“Kyungsoo, someone wants to speak with you!” Jongin yells from the register.

He narrows his eyebrows and gives Chanyeol the _“we’re not done with this” _look before heading out to the front.

Chanyeol heaves a sigh of relief. _Thank fuck._

_Excuse me?_

_This all your fault, shut up._

They hadn’t had the time for a full-length conversation since the last one, which Chanyeol found surprising. Sure, he was busy from dawn till dusk at the bakery and now with this catering business, but Boogeyman seemed to be even more unavailable. He only caught clips of his mysterious partner’s noise and occasional curses sporadically throughout the day.

Chanyeol now hears a distinct skid and crash that was definitely not from his side. Then comes _don’t go left, go right, don’t go left, go right _repeated as a mantra over and over. Counting in eights, Boogeyman sounds exasperated as he tiredly transmits his emotions down their bond.

_“Dancing isn’t a pre-requisite,” they said. “You’ll be fine,” they said._

_You okay?_

_No._

“Well jeez,” Chanyeol says aloud. _Rude._

Boogeyman sighs. _I’m sorry,_ he says truthfully. _This…routine is a little difficult and I’m feeling obstinate about it. I didn’t mean to take things out on you._

_It’s all right. You dance for a living?_

He snorts. _Sure, you can say that. _He doesn’t seem inclined to provide any more details than that, so Chanyeol lets him be.

Boogeyman senses this accommodation, sending him gratitude. 

_So Boogeyman—_

_Stop calling me that_, he complains. _You’re insinuating that I like, _haunt_ your mind or—_

_Sir, you haven’t supplied me much material to work with, _Chanyeol reminds. _As I had said before, you know my name and that I live in Korea—_

_I’m Korean too, _he says irritatedly. _And…_ He seems hesitant, _you can call me JD._

JD? Well, he would take what was offered.

_Nice to meet you JD, _Chanyeol says brightly, conveying a mental equivalent of his winning smile, dimples and all.

JD falters, before replying back also with a _nice to meet you too, Chanyeol. _Then comes, _I’m bored. What are you doing?_

_I thought you had to learn your routine?_

_Fuck that._

Chanyeol laughs. _Let’s do 20 Questions._

_Okay…….what do you do for a living?_ JD’s cautious voice echoes down their line.

_I run a bakery with my best friend!_

JD’s surprise filters through. _Really?_

_You’re Korean, so you have no excuse not to come, _Chanyeol invites_. We’re pretty well known too if I do say so myself._

_That’s what they all say, _JD seems to roll his eyes. But he can’t hide his curiosity…._What is it called?_

_Lumière. We get a lot of customers too, so I won’t know you came unless you tell me._

_Hmmm._

_I’m serious! We’ve been featured on so many food channels and frequented by many celebrities; why, just recently Baek—_

_Okay, okay. I believe you._

Chanyeol feels JD become pre-occupied on his side, muted conversations briefly surfacing. He isn’t quite sure how to voice this disconnection to JD and the implications of their reality bleeding into their minds, but JD comes back soon enough.

_Sorry, my friends were wondering why I was staring off into the distance. _Chanyeol hopes Kyungsoo or their employees don’t catch him doing that. _But anyway, tell me more about your bakery!_

_We’re an authentically French, but Kyungsoo—my partner—and I make sure to incorporate Korean flavors in our pastries and breads._

_So you have like, soybean paste flavored pastries?_

Chanyeol is flabbergasted. _That sounds—_

_Delicious_, JD says dreamily.

Chanyeol snorts. _On the contrary, I would disagree with you. Korean flavors mean _dessert flavors_ first of all, and I don’t know anybody who would conjure up a flavor profile as bizarre as yours._

_What do you know, _JD sniffs. _Leave me and my cravings alone._

_Why don’t you try it, _Chanyeol sneers. _It’s going to be disgusting, and I would know, _I_ went to culinary school in Paris, _he adds smugly.

_I can’t_, JD says morosely, ignoring his bragging. _I’m on a diet to bulk up._

_Who cares, have cheat day!_

His partner down the line sighs. _Well, look what I have here, _JD says ruefully._ I have a literal devil’s advocate in my head._

_How big are you?_

_…What?_

_How much do you have to bulk up? _Chanyeol clarifies_, _trying not to blush. JD laughs.

_As big as you can imagine._

“Eww,” Chanyeol complains aloud. _Why can’t you though? _he asks JD. _Have a cheat day, I mean. I’m sure it's necessary to reward yourself once in a while to keep yourself motivated? Even for disgusting shit like soybean paste croissants?_

_Oh fuck, that sounds so good, _JD moans. _But to answer your question, no, I don’t have that power. There is…a higher entity of sorts that controls my life basically._

_What?! _Chanyeol is aghast. _The fuck? Are you okay? Should I be worried? Oh my god, I should call the police—_

_NO, calm down, Chanyeol, _JD commands. _It’s entirely voluntary, I assure you_.

_What kind of sadistic crap are you—_

_It’s hard to understand without context, _JD begins, _But—_

_No shit yeah, I know absolutely nothing about you, _Chanyeol complains.

—_maybe I can explain clearer one day. Would that be okay? I promise I am not under duress or inflicting said ‘sadistic crap’ upon myself._

_Hmmm, _Chanyeol echoes. _If you say so._

_Thanks, _JD tells him warmly. Then, _Goddamn, I chose the wrong career. You’re a baker, you probably are really buff. Eating delicious buttery pastries every day and getting built simultaneously sounds fucking unreal._

_You betcha! _Chanyeol grins. _Kyungsoo’s specialty is bread, so he’s really wielding the heavy doughs and kneading constantly with his macho arms. I’m the pâtissier, but I’ve acquired quite the swole figure over the years._

It seems to take some time for JD to process that statement. _Oh! That’s cute._

Chanyeol blushes; that was unexpected. _Really?_

_Yeah, I was imagining a swole man crouching over his tiny-ass cakes, or sexily sprinkling sugar like Salt Bae._

_Okay, you can shut up. _

JD’s loud, annoying cackles drift down their bond.


	4. croissants

Chanyeol rises early the next day. It’s supposed to be his morning off, (if you can count showing up to work at seven versus four), but he nevertheless trudges over to his kitchen.

Contrary to the hodgepodge squalor of the rest of his apartment, the kitchen is spotless. Chanyeol practically salivates at the cleanliness and every item’s perfect organization from time to time. It’s also the only place of his that Kyungsoo deigns to sit around for more than thirty minutes.

“What the fuck,” is Kyungsoo’s commonly expressed response when traveling speedily from the door and passing by the pigsty on route to his safe haven.

Opting to skip coffee this morning, Chanyeol quickly sets a kettle to a boil before plopping a green tea bag into a mug. He admires his trim cabinets once while waiting for the tea to steep, opening up a large pantry to inspect his inventory.

Both of the co-owners of Lumière take their occupations seriously, making sure to meticulously maintain the upkeep and quality of their products. This also means developing new flavor combinations or determining what to bin, testing batches out in the comfort of their homes. Chanyeol has had an epiphany with the former.

Everything in his pantry is labeled neatly, different types of flours and sugars stored on a revolving panel in glass jars. The area above is dedicated to other dry ingredients like nuts, white chocolate chips, and even peppermint sticks.

This is also a bad place to raid during late-night cravings.

But Chanyeol's pride and joy is his an eccentric collection of different salts, from kosher to coarse, gray to pink, and a random bottle of smoked salt. His favorite one is the Himalayan.

He considers this enormous trove, then decides against whipping up a fresh batch of dough. Chanyeol’s feeling a little bit lazy today.

Moving to the refrigerator, Chanyeol opens it to search for his secret ingredient. He can’t stop thinking of JD, or rather his weird cravings.

Thus an idea is born.

The whole team stares him down when Chanyeol arrives at the bakery with his experiments. His very _successful _experiments.

“You goddamn insomniac,” Kyungsoo scolds. “This is not what I should find you doing at three in the morning.”

“Four actually,” Chanyeol simpers. “But wait until you actually taste them!”

Jongin leans in as he sets the croissants neatly on a clean board. “Is that _soybean paste _I smell?”

“Tada!” He brandishes his arms out. “Look!”

Junmyeon slings his arm around Jongin. “Hmm.”

If Junmyeon sees promise then all hope is not lost. Chanyeol rummages around a nearby counter, finding a sharp knife to suit his needs. He then proceeds to slice a croissant in half, putting the two halves next to each other to show his audience. The filling doesn’t ooze out, but Chanyeol expects this because he prefers the visual of it artfully nestled between the buttery folds of the croissant. And because he’s a genius, whatever he envisions always works out.

“What exactly is the filling?” Kyungsoo eyes the halved croissant. “I’m not going to have you test my stomach this early in the morning.”

Chanyeol swats his partner. “It’s a surprise.”

When all of them taste the croissants, their indignant expressions are replaced with awe. Chanyeol’s ego builds.

_Morning, Chanyeollll, _JD greets him cheerily. _I just woke up!_

Chanyeol snorts and checks his watch. It’s half-past two._ More like ‘good afternoon’, _he grumbles.

_Had a day off_, JD chatters. _Min, Hyun, and I went out drinking, and now we’re all awake!_

_Good for you._

This Min and Hyun were very prevalent in JD’s life, a tiny detail that JD bestowed onto Chanyeol during their daily conversations. He only gave up one fact for every five things Chanyeol told him about his life, and at this point, JD knew Chanyeol’s whole life story while he remained just as mysterious as when they had first met.

‘Met’ was a little too gracious.

_You’re not hungover?_

_Nope! Can’t say the same as with the others though._

They sit in companionable silence. Chanyeol tilts the knobs of the dough sheeter, thinning it down through the conveyor belt. He’s making a new batch of puff pastry, trying to re-stock their stores before a long weekend of non-stop baking.

_Oh! _Chanyeol suddenly remembers. _You should really stop by our bakery now._

_Why?_

_I’m not telling you. _Chanyeol grins. _Might have something you’ve been dreaming about._

_TELL ME._

_Bye, JD._

_Oh my god, Chanyeol._

Chanyeol rummages for his wallet at the grocery store. He hands over the bills to pay for his items as JD prattles on in his head. He wonders if he can take a single trip to fit all the reusable bags in his car.

_Chanyeol are you listening to me? I ATE your CROISSANTS!_

His head jolts up. _You did? _He asks JD pleasantly. _How’d it taste? I’ve been meaning to gather consumer opinion on them._

_CHANYEOL THEY WERE FUCKING GREAT. STUPID BAEK—I mean—HYUN TRIED TO STEAL EVERYTHING._

He winces at his shouting. JD’s internal voice is really loud.

_I can’t believe you actually made them, _JD calms down, telling him shyly. _I was sure they’d taste disgusting, and I couldn’t believe you took my joke seriously._

_I can’t believe you would doubt my skills, _Chanyeol counters mildly. _We are ranked one of the best in the nation you know._

_Pfft, show-off. My diet’s ruined now, thanks a bunch._

Another voice suddenly enters Chanyeol’s head. _SHUDDUP YOU DON’T EVEN GAIN WEIGHT._

“Whoa,” Chanyeol says aloud. _Who was that?_

_Oh, haha, _JD says distractedly. _Somebody next to me said that….wait, how’s that possible? How did you hear?_

This time Chanyeol can distinctly feel JD yelling at said person next to him, but he can’t hear the details. Evidently, the boundaries in this bond were weird.

_Sorry Chanyeol, I’m back, _JD resurfaces. _That was Hyun by the way. I’m not getting a lot of sleep, must be why the bond is malfunctioning._

_Hmm._

_Anyway, the croissants were delicious. My manager’s going to pick up some more things for us!_

_ _

_You have a manager?_

_Err…yes! Yes, I have a manager….he manages stuff. _JD laughs uncomfortably.

“Huh?”

_No wait! _He exclaims. _Like, my manager…leads us in places, yeah. He’s like a boss!_

_A boss, _Chanyeol says perplexed. _Okay, cool._

_He manages three of us, _JD tells him, kind of in an afterthought. _Min is like the Assistant to the Regional Manager._

Chanyeol squints at the cart rolling in front of him. _What?_

JD sighs. _Never mind._

Thus ends that conversation.

Chanyeol is bringing out a sack of flour from the back when JD decides to initiate another conversation. He sets it down and looks at his phone; it’s already two in the morning.

_Why are you still up?_

_I have trouble sleeping, _JD admits. _Wanted to see if you were still up. But hey, why are you up so late?_

_Occupational hazard, _Chanyeol informs him. _I’m a workaholic._

_Of course you are, _JD says lightly. _Go home, crackhead. I’ll keep you company along the way._

_In a bit._

JD keeps his promise, softly humming in his head as Chanyeol cleans up. But he soon gets bored.

_What kind of music do you listen to?_

He doesn’t miss a step. _CBX._

JD’s interest seems to pique. _Why?_ Chanyeol thinks he understands the unasked question JD is implying.

_I don’t subscribe to that idol bashing,_ Chanyeol tells him. _There is good music to be found everywhere, and I hate the bad rep that pop music receives from the older folks._

_Okay. _He doesn’t offer his own opinion or insights into Chanyeol’s response. He wonders whether JD is going to pick a fight with him until he says cheekily, _Who is your favorite member then?_

_You like them too?_

_…Sure?_

Chanyeol snorts. _It’s okay, we are adults here. It’s not as if I caught you singing to _Blooming Days.

_Shut up._

_I like all of them, I’ll let you know. I am a loyal EGG…but Chen’s voice is just…_He blows an imaginary kiss to his favorite singer.

_JD sounds outraged. You said I sucked!_

_What?_

He backpedals immediately.…_What?_

_You aren’t Chen, _Chanyeol says puzzledly. _Of course you would suck._

JD guffaws. _Okay, Chanyeol. Why do you like Chen so much?_

Chanyeol sits back, contemplating the question. The scone mixture he re-made is sitting forgotten by his side, an endeavor he has completely given up on. Kyungsoo will yell at him later, especially when he seems the raisins artfully arranged into a smiley face on each scone.

JD waits impatiently, prodding at their bond. Chanyeol headbutts him back.

_When he sings in performances that aren’t dancing, _Chanyeol begins, _he closes his eyes._

JD quiets.

_I can’t see his eyes, but the emotions he invokes in me…it’s like a letter being read, you know. I feel the pain, the sadness, the highs and lows of life. It’s like he has a direct connection to my soul, and I can empathize with everything he says. Plus it’s voiced in song, and I’ve always been a sucker for good music._

_Oh._

_“Oh”? That’s all you have to say to my artful speech? You better listen to some of his music now._

JD laughs. _You have no idea…. _He pauses.

_What would you say if he was right next to you? _

_  
_The question is lighthearted, but Chanyeol senses a slight anxiety emanating from him. JD picks up on his concern, reassuring him mentally.

Their bond was getting stranger and stranger.

_I don’t know, _he says honestly. _I’d probably not say anything…for me, I respect the boundary of the public figure Chen and his real persona called Kim Jongdae._

JD jolts randomly.

Chanyeol continues. _I guess I kind of, don’t want to meet him like that privately? What would I say….“Thank you for singing?”_

JD hums down their line as Chanyeol continues.

_He’s human too, and I would never want to burden him with these expectations and my overwhelming gratitude. I’d never want him to feel pressure to cater to anyone’s expectations. Chen should be able to live his life freely and have his career simultaneously without having fans assail him to impose their own image of him._

JD whistles. _You’re a real social justice warrior, aren’t you?_

Chanyeol laughs now and nudges their bond. _What would you do without my enlightened mind keeping you company?_

_I’d be so much happier, _JD says sarcastically. Then, w_ould you still see Chen or the group at a concert?_

_Nah. I’m kind of claustrophobic. Also, why would I leave my nice, warm house in order to be rendered deaf at a venue for hours?_

_You’re a weird fan._

_Thanks man._


	5. chocolate chip and honeycomb cookies

Preparations for the catering event kicks up in the weeks after. Chanyeol manages to squeeze in little bits of conversation with JD throughout the day, but the latter senses his exhaustion and soothingly ignores his half-assed responses.

_Blue or green?_ JD inquires one afternoon.

_What?_

_Should I wear my blue or yellow Balenciagas?_

Chanyeol snorts. _Both sound really ugly._

_Yeah, and your shoe preferences are so much better._

Chanyeol bends down to look at his beat-up Nikes. He vaguely remembers them being black when he purchased them, but now they are a flour-dusted mess.

_I do love a good pair of slides,_ Chanyeol admits to JD. _But those are highly incompatible working at a bakery._

_Alright, so you have no right to comment on my shoes then, _JD sniffs. _I know they aren’t conventionally pretty—_

_Hella expensive too, _Chanyeol comments.

_True,_ JD reluctantly acquiesces. And then, _but why do I get the sense that these aforementioned slides are Supreme?_

_Yeezys, actually, _Chanyeol playfully retorts. _I’m not about that garish life._

_Still pretentious_.

_Classy pretentious._

_I’m going to go with green, _JD announces instead. _You have fun with your boring-ass slides._

Chanyeol makes a noise of indignation. Kyungsoo peers over his shoulder at the sound.

“Something wrong with the tarts?”

“Nah,” he tells him. “Just a funny voice in my head.”

_So what is this catering event for anyway?_

Chanyeol moves to place a sheet pan into a refrigerator, taking out a container of berries after. He starts to inspect the berries before answering JD.

_Some big Halloween party a company is hosting. Don’t really know much of the details; the administrative role has fallen on Kyungsoo this time._

_Oh, you guys don’t do it together?_

_Nope. We’re best friends in real life, but we’ve learned that it is optimal for our business partnership to take turns in leading big projects like this. This way, we butt our heads less and create a better environment for our employees and customers._

JD hums. _That’s nice. I…have that kind of relationship with Min and Hyun too. We’ve been working together for close to a decade now, but there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for them. We’ve all seen too much bullshit for anything to divide us._

Chanyeol squints at a jar nearby. Even after so many years, he always doubts himself.

_Is that sugar or salt?_

JD gleefully cackles. _Is that your response?_

Chanyeol finally just gives up and drops a pinch of the granules down his mouth. _Sorry. I never know which one is which. And yes, you’ve perfectly described my dynamic with Kyungsoo. Even though I’m sure his expression was nothing short of murderous when we first met and I fucked up his bread and my pronunciation of _désolé—

He choked. That was too much salt.

Said murderous expression swivels around to pin itself on Chanyeol. Kyungsoo pointedly turns the jar, revealing a neatly printed ‘SALT.’

“Oops,” Chanyeol grins merrily at him. Kyungsoo sighs before pushing the other jar — presumably sugar — towards him.

JD laughs.

_Wait_. Chanyeol thinks. _You saw that?_

JD stops his titters. _……No?_

_Cut the bullshit! _Chanyeol tells him excitedly. _You totally saw that. We can see each other now?! _He almost spills the whole jar of sugar into the container of berries.

JD only sends amusement for him to sense. _Yeah, dummy. You just have to really concentrate, which I know you’re incapable of doing. It’s also really easy for me because you broadcast your emotions like a dog._

_Oh yeah? _Chanyeol retorts._ Then what else can you discern from my puppy eyes, sir?_

_That you probably can't fit in your bed with those daddy long-legs._

_Oh, I’m a daddy alright._

JD doesn’t have a comeback for that. But Chanyeol senses, shyness? Before he can lunge at it, the emotion is quickly yanked back by its owner.

_Hey. _Chanyeol complains. _It’s not my fault that we have different mental constitutions in our relationship._

JD laughs awkwardly this time. _Do we have a relationship?_

There is an even more awkward silence.

_Penny for your thoughts? _JD asks politely.

_If I tell you, you have to tell me too. That’s only fair, and you know that. Given_ _your_ advantage.

JD reluctantly acquiesces. _Fine_. Then, _I can just lie to you though._

Chanyeol actually throws his hands into the air. _That defeats the purpose of everything!_

_Okay, okay. _JD grins happily, transmitting it down the line. Chanyeol is taken aback at his warmth and feels himself blush. _Just messing with you, daddy._

“O-h-h-kay,” Chanyeol breaths aloud heavily. This boy was going to kill him.

“We’re going where?”

“If you hadn’t been zoning out every time I tried talking to you, then you’d know!”

Chanyeol splutters. He swivels around his seat to look at Kyungsoo. He really wishes he can tell him about JD.

“I’ll give you a moment to freak out,” Kyungsoo grumbles. At Chanyeol’s extended gaping however, his expression turns to one of chagrin.

“Eyes on the road!”

Chanyeol wants to freak out. “SM fucking Entertainment. Well, I’ll be damned.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t know, hyung,” Jongin pipes from the back. “I thought they were CBX’s management?”

Chanyeol snorts. “I keep tabs on CBX, not their company’s bureaucratic affairs.”

“It’s a _party_,” Jongin says matter-of-factly. Then he whispers to Kyungsoo, “Fake fan.”

“I heard that!”

Chanyeol doesn’t need to imagine Jongin’s tongue sticking out.

“One question though.”

“Yeah?” Chanyeol grunts as they lug the cake out. “Don’t drop any bombshells. Because then it won’t be just bombs that will hail down on us.”

“More like a hydrogen bomb,” Jongin quips.

Kyungsoo has gone ahead to talk to whoever’s in charge while they begin to unload the truck. The cake came out first, a wide, four-tier raspberry sponge cake covered in dusty pink buttercream. It looks gorgeous, Chanyeol having decorated the exterior with delicate lace piping.

Then there are the four long and rectangular dacquoise cakes: multiple layers of almond and hazelnut meringue, espresso buttercream, and a crisp, biscuit base that is all coated in glistening chocolate ganache. 

Ten more lavender boxes come out of their pick-up truck and as well as one ten-tier silver stand. The event organizers start to cluster around the banquet tables, _ooh-ing_ and _ah-ing _over all the desserts as they put them in place.

The sponge cake takes center stage, the dacquoise standing sentry at the edges. Three hundred macarons of varying pastel hues are gently placed on the silver stand, forming aformidable tower. Silver platters are laid with wedges of opera cakes, éclairs, mille-feuille, berry tarts in addition to various croissants, madeleines, and cookies.

Even without Kyungsoo’s help, they manage to set everything up in ten minutes. Chanyeol and Jongin exchange a high-five.

“As I was saying,” Jongin begins, surveying their sparkly end product. “This is some Halloween party. Where are the finger cookies and the bloody brain cupcakes? Seems boring to me.”

Chanyeol laughs. “They don’t want the desserts to take the attention away.”

Jongin frowns. “From who?”

Chanyeol just points. The cameras have begun to flash.

“Wow…” Jongin gushes. “She was _gorgeous_!”

“Awww,” Chanyeol croons, mussing his hair. “Met your first celebrity, haven’t you?”

Jongin bats his hand away. “Shut up.”

They loiter around the parking lot. The cool night air is being punctuated by screams, undoubtedly the shrieks of the scores of fans waiting for a chance to see their idols. They aren’t surprised to hear them from here.

Kyungsoo calls their names as he walks over, waving the invoice with one hand as he tries _— _in a futile action _— _to plug one ear with the other.

“Thank god,” he breathes out. “We’re done with this damn catering!"

Chanyeol whoops. “Finally, no more catering!”

“No more catering,” Jongin echoes, yawning. Kyungsoo pats him on the back. They practically pulled an all-nighter to get everything ready.

“They’re going to come over to drop off the macaron stand and platters tomorrow, so we don’t have to worry. Now let’s hurry on home,” Kyungsoo says, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. Even his underage bags look more prominent today. “Jongin, good job today. I’m going to give you a day off tomorrow. Chanyeol, you and I are going to have that long-awaited drink of ours.”

“Yes, sir!” Chanyeol salutes him.

Kyungsoo turns around to Jongin as Chanyeol begins to fish around for the keys.

“Who were you guys talking about before I came over?” Kyungsoo teases. “Who caught your eye, Jongin?”

He blushes beet-red. “No..nobody.”

“It was Krystallllll,” Chanyeol drawls. “One smile his way, then BOOM, the man’s in _love_.”

“Hey!” Jongin complains. “I don’t say anything about you and CBX!”

“I’m not in _loooove_ with them,” Chanyeol mischievously grins. “And we didn’t even see them today.”

“Yeah, right,” Kyungsoo snorts. “Don’t tell me that you aren’t bummed because of that.”

“Of course I’m bummed,” Chanyeol counters easily. “But not even CBX is worth seeing Jongin turn that red.”

They laugh uproariously as their employee pouts. Jongin stamps his foot. “Where are the keys, Chanyeol?”

Kyungsoo raises his eyebrow. “Yeah, Chanyeol. Where are the keys?”

Chanyeol senses that the tables have been turned long before he suspects where the keys are. “Uhh, one-second guys.” He bolts back toward the building as Kyungsoo and Jongin let out a collective sigh.

“Forgot my keys!” he hollers at the security guard who confusedly watches him sprint past.

Chanyeol spies his keys next to the macaron tower. He heads over resolutely, unwilling to get distracted by the throng of celebrities crowding his line of sight. His height easily places him above many in the room, and aided by the low and urgent _“_excuse me”s, people jump from his path.

His keys are so close, just ten paces away when a camera flashes in his face. Chanyeol blinks, disoriented.

The photographer reveals themselves to be a girl of questionable age, seeing as there was a bar situated just to the left of them. He raises his eyebrows as the girl gapes at him.

“My skin hasn’t been looking the greatest. Did you have to use your flash?” Chanyeol jokes as he blinks the spots away. “I don’t think you want to look at my pores.”

The girl just continues to stare at him, transfixed.

“Um, well, if you’ll excuse me,” Chanyeol tries. She yelps and scampers out of his way. He smiles in thanks before adding, “Dunno why you took that photo of me. I’m not a celebrity you know.”

The girl gasps, blushes, then runs away. He shakes his head in confusion.

Somebody is speaking up on a stage, so he finally has a clear path toward his destination. Chanyeol is happy to see the clear popularity their desserts have experienced. Two of the dacquoise cakes have already vanished while the sponge cake looks decimated. The macaron tower similarly looks devoid of half its tiers, and there, blessedly, are the keys.

Somebody in a yellow raincoat is right in front of the tower however, staring contemplatively at the highest tiers.

“Excuse me,” Chanyeol says lightly. “Sorry, I need to grab my keys.”

The person absentmindedly moves to give him space, and Chanyeol quickly grabs the damnedthing. With the keys safely in his pocket, he turns to appraise the person who is still looking at the macarons intently, a curious red balloon tied on one wrist. Their plate already has an assortment of pastries and cakes from the table, but there are no macarons yet.

It is absolutely his duty as the pâtissier to provide customers with recommendations.

“If you have trouble selecting,” Chanyeol adopts his smooth, velvety customer service voice. “I would recommend the pink ones. We infuse all our macarons with natural flavors, and the pink ones contain rosewater, my personal favorite.”

The person jolts at Chanyeol’s voice, turning rapidly. A cookie flies off the plate, which Chanyeol catches deftly.

“Here you go,” he says brightly, putting it back on the plate. “Our cookies are great too.” When they make eye contact, Chanyeol’s eyes widen.

He can’t believe his own fucking eyeballs. It’s _Chen_.

_The fuck, why’s he hotter in person_, comes unfiltered to his side.

_Oh hello! Who’d you see? _Chanyeol says amusedly. _Because_ _I don’t think he’s as hot as who’s in front of me._

_Uhh_, JD’s voice is flustered, audible winces coming down their bond. _You were not supposed to hear that._

_Hear what?_

Chen stares at him, bug-eyed. Despite his shock and awe at seeing him in the flesh, Chanyeol can only chuckle at his cute expression.

_Holy mother of god._

_You okay, JD? _

Meanwhile, Chanyeol looks Chen up and down, noting his costume. His face alights when he gets the reference, and there is a groan from JD.

“Oh! Hiya, Georgie,” Chanyeol winks at him before strolling away in what he hoped was a cool turn.

JD is suddenly leaking emotions, the normally stringent barriers falling away to reveal…desperation? _Chanyeol, I—_

_What’s wrong?_ Chanyeol demands. _Are you okay? _He starts walking quickly, as if that could get him to JD faster. All his excitement of meeting Chen is forgotten; there is only worry for JD.

_No, no. I’m fine. _His mental barriers snap back up, and any remnants of despair are quickly swept up.

Chanyeol frowns. And because he’s an open book, JD immediately rushes forward to assuage him.

_I swear I’m fine, _he says shakily. _I just almost dropped my cookie._

Now that was pure bullshit, but Chanyeol didn’t push him.

_Oh? I’m sure we can make better ones. What kind of flavor were they? I can whip up a batch and—_

_It’s only chocolate chip, _JD interrupts him, laughing. _Chill._

_Excuse me, even chocolate chip cookies have an art to them, _Chanyeol sniffs. _Why, I just baked over fifty cookies for the catering—_

_Shhh. I’m trying to enjoy my cookie here._

_Congratulations, _Chanyeol says sarcastically. _How do these inferior cookies taste?_

_Very good. _There’s an indiscreet moan. _So good. And there are these chunks of…honeycomb? _There is a slightly bewildered tone at that.

_Oh, that’s weird. _A large horde of people grouped at a table is obstructing his path. He tries to navigate around them. _We were experimenting with a new flavor for our catering today. Chocolate chip and honeycomb cookies. Junmyeon says that honeycomb is all the rage right now._

_Chanyeol, _JD says strangely. _Chanyeol, _he repeats._ I’m allergic to honey._

_What?_

Chanyeol stops in his tracks. He turns one-eighty, trying to think instead of panic. _What do you want me to do? _JD struggles to respond but grounds out, _Look up! _

Chanyeol feels a slow dread crawl up his spine. He looks up, directly in the line of sight back to the dessert table.

Chen is doubled over, his plate dropped on the floor. A cookie falls from his hands.

Chanyeol runs over without a thought and catches him just before he collapses. Chen attempts to say something, but his rapidly swelling lips muffle the words. In fact, his whole face seems to bubble, and Chanyeol can only stare in shock. He drops his gaze back down to the cookie.

No. His mind is whirling in confusion._ NO!_

_YES!_ JD finally screams back. _Call for help, Chanyeol. I can’t breathe!_

Holy fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everybody pls keep on reporting exolacecafe on twitter for targeted harassment and send evidence of malicious slander against jongdae to chenuniv@naver.com


	6. donuts

“Who the fuck has allergies to honey?”

One of the paramedics shoot Chanyeol a dirty look.

He doesn’t mean to offend, however. But because he’s so frazzled, worried, and _pissed off _at JD, he can’t think straight.

JD?…... Jongdae?

_Oh wow, fuck you_.

Said man is currently logged off, unresponsive mentally and physically to the angry glares emanating from Chanyeol.

Despite his fury at being deceived this whole time, Chanyeol is genuinely worried. He wants to prod JD’s stupid, pufferfish face and pinch his ballooned lips.

“That doesn’t speak of worry,” a voice croaks out.

“Oh god!” Somebody pushes Chanyeol aside to get closer. Because for some reason, JD decided to hold his hand in a vice grip, and now his lap is being used to cushion the idiot’s head. The rubbery vinyl of his raincoat squeaks as it slides against his legs.

“Jongdae,” the newcomer hisses. “You can _let go_ of his hand now.” The palpable distrust in their voice causes Chanyeol to look up.

He isn’t surprised to find _Byun Baekhyun _glowering over them. Chanyeol sighs and rubs his face tiredly. It’s been a long day.

After JD dramatically swooned into his arms (_I did not! _he protests across their bond.), Chanyeol froze. His mind couldn’t comprehend anything, the shock of discovering JD’s identity dominating his entire body.

Meanwhile, JD himself was hollering like a broken alarm in his head.

_PARK CHANYEOL. Stop gaping! If you let me die here, I will haunt you until _you_ die!_

That effectively broke Chanyeol’s reverie. “You already do that,” he muttered disdainfully. JD started to turn blue then. “Help!” Chanyeol yelled, long overdue. “Somebody, call 119! He’s having an allergic reaction!”

It was all a blur after that. Shrieks began thrumming through the crowd, and Chanyeol vaguely remembered the tendrils of JD’s mind across their bond breaking away.

“No, no, no!” Chanyeol slapped his face. “Wake up! You can’t faint now!” But JD didn’t respond, and Chanyeol was so _scared_. Tears sprang into his eyes, a secondary reaction from when he wetted his bleeding, bitten lips. JD was unconscious, face practically unrecognizable, most likely unable to breathe, and he had no _fucking_ clue what he was supposed to do.

And yet his body sluggishly moved. As the world around him turned into a kaleidoscope of gray, Chanyeol laid JD down on the floor gently, making sure his head and neck were stable. Time started to move forward then. He ripped open the yellow raincoat, buttons snapping off. The shirt underneath was too slippery to get enough traction, so Chanyeol tore the shirt in half too.

In a fleeting thought, he hoped the shirt wasn’t too expensive.

Chanyeol’s hands were steady, pumping forcefully onto his chest. But his mind wasn’t. _Wake up_, Chanyeol begged him. _Please…Jongdae. Wake up. _He stopped briefly, thrusting one hand forward to tip JD’s jaw up and the other to pinch his nostrils shut.

Chanyeol’s heart broke. His lips were too cool.

But despite his crazed efforts at CPR, it only took on injection of epinephrine from the paramedics, who had arrived in no time, for JD to stabilize and begin breathing normally. Chanyeol exhaled deeply, hands shaking by his side.

“You did well,” one of the paramedics had praised him. “We came just in time, but your attempts at resuscitation really contributed to his fast recovery. Look at him!”

Chanyeol wearily looked over. JD’s face had gradually warmed, a pink flush now gliding over his cheeks. But all he could feel was guilt. He had taken _so long_ to respond, too long to get his act together before calling for help. The horror dawned on him as the possibility of JD’s death swam before his eyes.

The paramedic patted his back sympathetically. “I’d let you go now, preferably so that you can get some rest somewhere. But it looks like he’s not ready yet.” She winked down at him.

Chanyeol followed her gaze down.

JD had wrapped his hand tightly around his.

“Jongdae!” Baekhyun looks scandalized now, his fake facial hair (_Part of his costume as_ _Jang Chen from the movie _The Outlaws, JD supplied helpfully.) smudged. “I know he saved your life, but I think you can show your appreciation in other ways.”

“I’m cold,” JD whimpers instead. Chanyeol instinctively moves to cover up his swath of naked chest, courtesy of his frenzied CPR. He tries to close the gap with the torn scraps of the shirt.

JD’s hand clamps firmly down on his wrist. Chanyeol looks at him. His gaze is unreadable, eyes dark with emotion. He wonders if JD knows how scared he was. “What?” he hoarsely asks him.

“Don’t call me that,” he says aloud instead.

Both Baekhyun and Chanyeol furrow their eyebrows in confusion. “What?” Baekhyun repeats.

JD shakes his head, a forlorn expression on his face. “Don’t call me JD,” he says unhappily. “My name is Jongdae.”

_Stay out of my head!_

_I can’t help it, not when you’re being so loud with your thoughts!_

_I’m being loud, huh? At least I’m always being _honest_ with my thoughts._

That was a low blow.

Jongdae mentally rises with fury, inner voice easily rivaling in volume with his spoken one.

_Are you fucking serious?_

“Whatever voodoo shit you guys are doing, stop!” Baekhyun chides angrily. “I’m about to end both your whole careers!”

Jongdae winces at that. “That’s the wrong meme to use, Baek.”

“Why is that, you fool?”

“Well for starters,” Jongdae turns his head to the side, which brings him flush against Chanyeol’s thigh. His eyes widen, shrieking internally.

It’s Chanyeol who plugs his ears and Baekhyun who looks at them suspiciously. Jongdae hastily gets up, but embarrassingly has to be propped up by Chanyeol. He shoots the latter a scowl at that thought.

“You and I share the same career, dumbass,” Jongdae continues as if nothing happened. “And this dumbass over here is responsible for those muffins you try to snort up daily.”

But Jongdae’s grating comments on his eating habits aren’t what get him riled up. “You’re telling me,” Baekhyun brandishes a finger at his bandmate, “that you _knew_ the owner of Lumière Bakery, and you were never obliged to tell me?”

Chanyeol objects to that. “I have never met this man before.” Jongdae shoots him a dirty look.

But Baekhyun dismisses him. “Sure, Jan.”

Jongdae shakes his head, a dry chuckle escaping his lips. Not that Chanyeol is paying attention to his lips, but he can’t help but notice its unnaturally red color, scarlet and smudged in weird streaks that don’t resemble lipstick. Panic rises in him once again, overwhelming his senses.

“Ma’am?” he calls out to one of the paramedics, trying but failing to keep the panic at bay. The note of hysteria in his voice draws the attention of both idols, heads swiveling in his direction.

“Ow,” Jongdae complains as Chanyeol unconsciously tightens his hold on him. Baekhyun’s eyes narrow into dangerous slits, but Chanyeol doesn’t notice.

“Something’s wrong with him. His lips are turning red!”

The paramedic tilts Jongdae’s chin up, thumbing his puffy face with gloved hands. She pinches his lips, and Chanyeol watches in terror as it turns white before blossoming into red. “Hmm.”

“I think it is blood,” a new voice pipes up. Chanyeol raises his head to find Xiumin now hovering above them. He’s not even awestruck anymore, but seeing Kyungsoo and Jongin, who are trailing a few feet behind Xiumin, he elicits a sigh in relief. Jongin waves.

“Blood?” Baekhyun echoes in confusion.

“Yeah,” Xiumin nods. He kneels down with the rest of them. “Like this new look on you, man,” he winks at Jongdae cheekily.

Jongdae scowls and sticks his fat, swollen tongue out, succeeding in making everybody laugh at him.

“May I?” Xiumin asks the paramedic, pointing at her gloved hands. She nods, curiosity piqued. Xiumin takes her hand and turns it over, palm up. The latex gloves are blue, unmarred in color except for at the tips of the fingers, where the paramedic presumably touched Jongdae’s lips.

Now that he sees it closer, Chanyeol has to admit that it strongly resembles dried blood. But from where?

His musings are interrupted by Jongdae, who tiredly slumps back down into Chanyeol’s lap as he loses interest.

_You okay?_

_No._

_Hmph._

Jongdae stares straight up at him. Chanyeol finds himself caught in his gaze, a fly stuck in sticky amber. He smiles at Jongdae.

_You still look funny._

_Gee, thanks. I don’t think I’ve met a funnier looking person that you._

Chanyeol raises his eyebrows. _Did I meet your expectations?_ he asks teasingly.

Instead of a witty response, Jongdae blushes. Then his eyes train on Chanyeol’s lips.

Chanyeol’s heart beats rapidly. He feels his pulse thrum all over his body, ignited like a geyser in his legs especially. His legs that cradle Jongdae's head.

Jongdae cocks his head. The movement sends a tingle up Chanyeol’s spine, and he exhales in a huff.

_No funny thoughts,_ he tells Chanyeol warmly, eyes crinkling into crescents. _I know what you’re thinking._

Chanyeol starts to protest, but he interrupts him aloud. “Chanyeol……your lips are bleeding.”

“Oh, hello.” Baekhyun says sarcastically. “Have you both decided to deign us with your presence now?”

“Hush now.” Xiumin swats him before turning to Chanyeol. He has a thoughtful expression, face inquisitively open, but his eyes are unreadable as he inspects Chanyeol. At least he’s not as aggressive as Baekhyun. (_Sorry about that, I promise I’ll talk to him,_ Jongdae whispers.)

“You gave him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, right?

_Oh. OH._

“Did you now?” Jongdae asks Chanyeol serenely. _Trying to make me a vampire, huh?_

_I didn’t bite you!_

_My dear, you need to brush up on the different transmission rates._

_Of a vampiric strain?!_

“I don’t think we’ve met before,” Xiumin intervenes their mental argument. He extends a hand. “My name is Minseok, and I’m sorry I haven’t thanked you yet, for saving Jongdae’s life.”

“Not a problem,” Chanyeol says awkwardly, shaking his head. Jongdae laughs in his head. “Nice to meet you too.”

“This over here is Baekhyun, if he didn’t introduce himself yet.” Minseok glares at him. “Don’t be rude!”

Baekhyun grudgingly nods in greeting. “Hello.”

“While this has been an enlightening experience for all of us, I think it’s best if we all go our separate ways now. Especially for you, Jongdae. You need rest,” Minseok tells him sternly.

Jongdae reluctantly gets up and off of Chanyeol. As he hobbles on his feet, Chanyeol himself gets up, steadying him with a gentle hand on his elbow. Jongdae turns to face him, his eyes widening when he takes him in.

_You’re so tall._

Chanyeol grins at him. _I seem to recall another reaction when I caught your cookie._

He walks toward Kyungsoo and Jongin with Jongdae’s furious blush engraved into his mind.

As promised, Kyungsoo and Chanyeol go for drinks after they drop off Jongin.

It’s a lovely night, so they opt to sit outside Kyungsoo’s balcony in his apartment, takeout boxes of fried chicken and cans of beer placed precariously on top of a small stool. They drink in welcome silence, but Chanyeol can feel his friend watching him out of the corner of his eye.

“Successful day, wasn’t it?” he asks Kyungsoo cheerfully. “Anything noteworthy to jot down in our logbooks?”

Kyungsoo plays along, talking business with him. The discussion soon turns lighthearted as they recount old memories and jokes, the conversation naturally winding through the air only how best friends can.

Unfortunately, you can only hide from your best friend for so long. Luckily for Chanyeol, Kyungsoo has tact.

“Do you like him?”

Chanyeol chokes on his beer. Kyungsoo watches him impassively. _Jerk._

“Wha—why do you say that? I have never met him before, and….and he’s not my type!”

Kyungsoo narrows his eyes. “I thought you liked him as a singer?”

Chanyeol violently tears into a drumstick. “Of course I do!” He chews loudly, trying to drown out his thoughts.

Because what is the harm of telling Kyungsoo about this mental…..bond thing? Sure, he wouldn’t believe him, but he already suspected something was up with Chanyeol since the whole thing started. But now that he has uncovered his JD’s identity, surely it wouldn’t be hard to prove? He’d have to meet with Jongdae again, bring Kyungsoo with him…..

And how can he even meet Jongdae again? Even thinking about the possibility makes him want to spontaneously combust. Never mind the fact that he’s a celebrity, Chanyeol doesn't think its good for his health to meet him again.

_Why’d you make everything so complicated?_ he groans down their bond. But he knows Jongdae must be asleep, because there is no way he wouldn’t have pounced at all the embarrassing thoughts that have swirled in his brain this whole night.

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo says in a low voice. His eyes are dark and serious; even the moonlight doesn’t illuminate his irises right now. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I know,” Chanyeol tells him weakly.

He sleeps over at Kyungsoo’s that night, too drunk to walk down the couple blocks to his own apartment. He awakens to the smell of food, afternoon light streaming through the windows. After washing his face, he trudges over to the kitchen where Kyungsoo is stooped over the stove, stirring a pot of soup with a bird’s nest in his hair.

They wisely avoid mentioning last night’s events.

“Chanyeol, your jam is boiling!” Kyungsoo calls out to him.

Chanyeol grunts in acknowledgment, hefting a heavy bag of sugar over his shoulder. He and Kyungsoo had taken a day off with Jongin, and this was their first day back. The hustle and bustle of the bakery hadn’t stopped in their absence; Junmyeon had picked up new supplies in their pickup truck, and now he and a couple of other employees were working to unload and organize their new inventory.

“You guys can handle all of this?” Junmyeon nods and shoos him away.

He returns back to his pot on the stove, idly stirring and shutting off the gas. The sugary, sweet smell of strawberry floats into the air. As it cools, Chanyeol begins to zest some lemons to prepare for a lemon curd.

It’s time for their seasonal batches of strawberry and lemon filled donuts, perfectly timed to coincide with the strawberry season. While not a traditional French dessert, everybody loves donuts, so they pretend that it is.

Chanyeol has begun to cream the butter and sugar when Jongin’s voice comes anxiously from the front. “Chanyeol? You better come out. Quick!”

Alarm races in his veins. “What’s wrong?” He sprints out toward the front, handing off the mixer to another employee.

Jongin stands in shock in front of the register. He points in the direction of their doors.

Jongdae marches up to the counter, covered in black from head to toe and sunglasses perched on his nose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope everybody's safe in quarantine and let's stream "let's love"!


	7. red velvet cupcakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm bacc. i was too busy jamming to baekxing to write (also crying thru finals but who cares yeeee)

Why don’t celebrities know that dressing like that only makes them stand out more?

Jongdae’s only source of color is a grey scarf, swaddled around his neck to cover the front of his face.

“You look like a serial killer,” Chanyeol says in lieu of a greeting.

Jongdae cranes his eyes up at him, an almost imperceptible tilt to his head in his swathed glory. He takes in Chanyeol’s white outfit, the fabric stretched taut over the broad expanse of his chest and arms. Jongdae tries to bat away the scarf to see better.

Chanyeol smirks at Jongdae’s obvious ogling. He uncrosses his arms, revealing flour-covered forearms that he sets on the counter. Jongdae’s eyes zero in on the thick muscle. “Want a Baekhyun muffin?”

Jongdae jolts, scrunching his nose. “I’m sick of those. Baekhyun goes through a dozen when he’s pregnant.”

“I— excuse me?”

He waves his hand dismissively. “He’s either horny or hungry. Pregnancy is what Minseok and I call his collective state.”

“That is too much information—”

“Yeah? Well, imagine living in the same dorm as him when he’s in that state,” Jongdae grumbles. “Where are my soybean paste croissants?”

Chanyeol shrugs. “Seasonal specialty, we’re thinking of doing. Also, too many people have been complaining about the smell.”

Jongdae frowns. “This isn’t America. Why would they complain about an ingredient that is one of our cultural staples?”

“Meh, something about what belongs and doesn’t belong in a French bakery.”

“French bakery?” Jongdae scoffs. “I bet they themselves have never been to a bakery in France! What would they know?”

Chanyeol warms, but he likes to rile Jongdae up. “Your privilege is showing, my dear.”

Jongdae flushes. “Oh…right."

Chanyeol stares at him intently. He could still pretend to be a little mad right? That was the least he could do after Jongdae was stringing him along these last couple of months—

_I was not stringing you along! And that phrase has entirely different connotations!_

_Oh yeah? Then how else would you describe it?_

Jongdae glares at him before changing tactics. “Can I have one of those instead?”

Chanyeol turns around to see where he is pointing. “Didn’t take you for a cupcake kind of guy,” he says as he rings up the purchase. Jongdae snorts as he slides a thick, black credit card Chanyeol’s way.

“I can eat anything, excuse me.” Chanyeol stops his inspection of the credit card, sending him a lewd look. Jongdae yelps. “Just finish the transaction!”

Chanyeol laughs, turning around to grab a little plastic container.

“Wait, wait, I want none of that!” Jongdae stops him. Chanyeol turns back around to face him quizzically. “Ew to single-use plastic,” Jongdae explains, grabbing the red velvet cupcake straight off of Chanyeol’s tongs. He licks the tip of the cream cheese frosting, letting out a deep sigh as a smile overtakes his face.

So cute.

But he doesn’t say that aloud.

“Never took you to be a high-maintenance celebrity,” Chanyeol quips, watching Jongdae’s cheeks (or what he can make of it) pink. He swipes the card, waiting for the receipt to roll out. “Lemme guess, your ass needs to shit on a gold-covered toilet, you can only eat Hanwoo beef, and you only wear the same outfit once?”

“No, I’m a vegetarian, and definitely no! I’m an idol, Chanyeol, not Jeff Bezos,” Jongdae pouts at him. He opens his mouth to smush the cupcake into his mouth, but then something stops him. “No honey in this right?” he asks fearfully.

Chanyeol finally gives him a genuine smile. “Yes, it’s safe for you to eat, dummy.”

Jongdae relaxes, and the happy expression he makes when he bites into the cupcake has Chanyeol’s heart beating a little faster.

“I don’t think I love anything more than the things you guys make here,” Jongdae stops inhaling his cupcake to beam up at Chanyeol, “but I don’t think I can ever try another cookie ever again. I’m traumatized for life.”

“You love the product more than its creator, huh?”

Chanyeol doesn’t know what he is doing, or why he is flirting with Jongdae like his life depends on it. It feels really nice to actually talk to Jongdae in person, but the things that are spilling out of his mouth right now are a bit concerning, to say the least.

Jongdae evidently feels the same, eyes blown wide open. He chews, then swallows heavily like he just Kronos-devoured a boulder.

“Well,” Jongdae mutters dazedly. “You’re not something I can eat, can I?” Panic flares in his face when he realizes what he just said.

Jongdae totally walked himself into that one.

“That’s what she said,” Chanyeol smirks devilishly. Jongdae opens his mouth in indignation.

“Chanyeol, uh. He’s holding up the line,” Jongin interrupts.

Chanyeol peers over Jongdae. There is, indeed, a queue forming in the back. Luckily, no one seems to recognize Jongdae’s voice, which is a surprise in its own right. A countless number of EGGs are known to frequent and lurk around their bakery.

_Come inside. _Chanyeol directs his head toward the back. _I don’t think it’s safe for you to go out the front._

_Okay, _Jongdae tells him rather meekly.

_What, did you not think this through before deciding to step out in public? _Chanyeol teases. _You know, Kyungsoo will have my head if the fans show up here again in a mob._

_We got bigger issues to worry about, _Jongdae grumbles. He steps through the space in the counter, following Chanyeol and angling his face away from the front. Chanyeol motions him to go in front of him, leading Jongdae carefully to his office.

Jongdae tries to keep his head down, but he can’t help himself as he passes their bustling workers. The cupcake forgotten in his hand, Jongdae looks around in wonder at whisks in every possible size hanging on the walls, commercial dough mixers that are as big as him, and tray pans and carts all over the place.

Nobody pays them any attention, which Chanyeol supposes is a miracle.

“Watch where you’re going!” somebody snaps. Jongdae automatically opens his mouth to apologize, but Chanyeol averts the disaster by pulling Jongdae across himself before he runs into the pissed worker.

“Careful there,” he whispers, hand on Jongdae’s back. Jongdae nods apologetically.

They make it into the small office that Chanyeol shares with Kyungsoo without any further incidents. It’s in a disarray of papers and books, one that Kyungsoo hasn’t come around to clear up amid the hectic catering event.

“Why can’t you clean it up yourself?” Jongdae reads him and quizzically asks as Chanyeol motions him to sit down. Chanyeol takes a seat on the desk himself, prodding open a mini-fridge located on the floor with his foot.

“He’s a cleaning freak. I don’t share such zealous hobbies,” he informs Jongdae. “Want a drink?”

“Sure.” Jongdae sets his cupcake gently down next to Chanyeol’s butt before proceeding to unwrap his scarf. He folds it into thirds before tugging at the collar of his coat aggressively. “It’s so hot here.”

Chanyeol bends down to take out two water bottles. Tossing one to Jongdae, he lightly says, “Well, a bakery has to keep their ovens on, don’t they?”

“Hmm,” Jongdae only hums, taking off his expensive-looking sunglasses and black cap before unbuttoning his coat. There are more articles of clothing underneath; frankly, Jongdae looks like he belongs in the wrong hemisphere.

“What’s wrong with my sweater?” Jongdae frowns, pulling at its hem.

_Nothing, _Chanyeol laughs at him. Aloud, he says, “So, what brings you here?”

Jongdae scratches the back of his neck, his spotless complexion turning varying shades of pink. It stands out against more against the black of his clothes, and Chanyeol can see the blush travel down the collar of his turtleneck.

But more importantly, Jongdae is actually doing a _bad_ job at hiding his thoughts for once.

Chanyeol cocks his head. He crosses his arms, replicating the posture he held when Jongdae first walked into Lumière. But this time, he leans in.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asks lowly. Jongdae squirms in his seat, avoiding eye contact. He blindly reaches out for something, hands quickly snatching out to grab the abandoned sunglasses on the table. As if he can’t bear to look Chanyeol in eye without them, Jongdae shoves them back onto his face before looking up at him bravely.

“I was told that I have a fairly nice-looking face,” Chanyeol tells him arrogantly. “Am I too bright for you?” He can’t read Jongdae’s expression, but he can _definitely_ hear his thoughts now.

“Say that to me out loud,” Chanyeol commands slyly. “I can’t hear you.” He reaches out for the sunglasses. Jongdae doesn’t move to stop him, holding his breath in anticipation.

He slides the sunglasses down the slope of Jongdae’s nose, revealing the dark pool of his eyes.

Chanyeol’s mind is finally able to reconcile the two together, JD and Jongdae. They seemed like polar opposites at first, JD’s spunk overpowering Jongdae’s rather timid countenance. Adding to the mixture of the truth of his occupation, and the unprecedented business that is Chanyeol’s personal love for said occupation, their situation is more than sticky. But ever since the first time Jongdae’s voice exploded into his mind, this is the clearest Chanyeol has been able to see.

“Come here,” he whispers. Jongdae obliges without a word, almost desperate as he falls into Chanyeol’s arms.

His legs fall to the ground, arms coming around to grab Jongdae’s torso tight. Chanyeol hoists himself and Jongdae back up onto the table.

“Is this what you wanted?” he teases Jongdae lovingly. Jongdae buries his head into his shoulder in response. Chanyeol laughs, pressing a kiss down into his hair. Arms come around to encircle Chanyeol’s waist, and he can feel fingers tightly grabbing at his uniform. “I’m still mad at you, you know,” he tells Jongdae, lips ghosting his forehead. “For lying to me.”

Chanyeol feels Jongdae pinch his waist aggressively. He smiles. There’s the JD he knows.

“Why are you so shy?” Jongdae looks up in confusion, but there is now warmth alight in his eyes. Chanyeol brushes Jongdae’s hair behind his ears. “You fight back like a tiger in our heads, yet in my arms, you’re like a slug. Is there anything you want to tell me, my dear?”

Jongdae slugs his head. “Asshole,” he venomously mutters before shoving his chest hard. But Chanyeol has pecs of steel, so he did his wrists more of a disservice rather than inflict any bodily harm on Chanyeol.

“What’s that?” Chanyeol smirks. Jongdae can only gape, eyes narrowing in annoyance.

Chanyeol continues to egg him on with a harangue. “You’re in my lap right now,” he points out to Jongdae. “One wrong move, I can totally throw you off. Try me, dude.” Jongdae widens his eyes, lips parting open.

Chanyeol’s whipped ass is dazzled. He goes against his own words, pulling Jongdae’s legs to the sides of his body. They’re closer than ever, and Chanyeol is absolutely starstruck.

Jongdae is truly beautiful. Pictures can do him no justice, unable to capture the essence of his features, the smile behind every movement. Even Chanyeol’s eyes are overloaded, the synapses in his brain fried by all the thoughts of Jongdae.

Only through their bond does Chanyeol think that he can be blatantly raw and give a thorough, unabridged description of the Jongdae in front of him. Alongside the JD and Chen that live as a part of him. Too bad only Jongdae can hear his thoughts though.

“I have no problem with that,” Jongdae softly declares. “You’re mine.” 

_Possessive much?_

But Jongdae doesn’t answer. Instead, they’re kissing.

If Jongdae’s voice is an explosion, his kisses are a supernova. The physical sensations of the kiss are euphorically unholy, but Chanyeol can’t even focus on that.

The emotions Jongdae transmits down their bond, the swirling waves of pleasure, lust, and _love_ sent towards Chanyeol make him spin like a turbine. There is electricity generated here, a surge of sparks that sets a fire in his blood and makes him want _more._

He doesn’t think he will ever let go of Jongdae.

“Are you in here, Chanyeol? Where’d you leave the order forms for that—” Kyungsoo shrieks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JONGDAE'S BACK AHHHHSKFJAJDKFLAKDJFAKFDJLDJKLAJ beautiful mf got that healthy new papa glow whatta man imma fuck over all the antis and shit all over them
> 
> ily jongdae <3


End file.
